Antonio Machado

(26 July 1875 – 22 February 1939 / Seville)

Antonio Machado Poems

1. Anoche Cuando Dormía 3/30/2010
2. Cantares 3/30/2010
3. El Crimen Fue En Granada 3/30/2010
4. El Viajero 3/30/2010
5. Fields Of Soria 1/21/2003
6. Guadarrama 1/1/2004
7. Has My Heart Gone To Sleep? 1/1/2004
8. He Andado Muchos Caminos 3/30/2010
9. I Did Not Dream... 1/13/2016
10. Inventario Galante 3/30/2010
11. La Saeta 3/30/2010
12. Last Night As I Was Sleeping 1/1/2004
13. Passageways 1/21/2003
14. Songs Of The High Country 1/21/2003
15. The Wind, One Brilliant Day 1/1/2004
16. To JośE MarίA Palacio 1/21/2003
17. Yo Voy Soñando Caminos 3/30/2010

Comments about Antonio Machado

  • Emma Bergen (8/12/2018 1:41:00 PM)

    The Poem: Traveler, there is no path is so much longer and more intense than the lines published here. It is sad that so few get the chance to read the complete poem. For anyone who is interested to read the whole poem, please follow the link: http: //

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  • Ray Burleigh (4/22/2016 3:52:00 AM)

    I lived in Spain in the later sixties. The college kids I hung around with loved bullfighting, Real Madrid and Machado, not always in that order. He was, they would say to mea calm voice and someone who loved the people. They respected and loved the gypsy flash of Lorca (these were people who recited in the streets, to women from under balconies, in bars amidst the noise) but Machado was their honored and loving friend who gave them back a language that was their own.

  • Jared Powell (5/5/2014 1:02:00 PM)

    Bob Sagget! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

  • Juan Rodriguez Juan Rodriguez (11/22/2013 8:35:00 AM)

    Ej mejor de la Generacion del '98. Gran Poeta!

  • Juan Rodriguez Juan Rodriguez (11/22/2013 8:34:00 AM)

    Antonio Machado was one of the greatest poet of Spain and one of the greatest of the Generation of'98.

Best Poem of Antonio Machado

Last Night As I Was Sleeping

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I ...

Read the full of Last Night As I Was Sleeping


Todo pasa y todo queda,
pero lo nuestro es pasar,
pasar haciendo caminos,
caminos sobre el mar.

Nunca persequí la gloria,
ni dejar en la memoria
de los hombres mi canción;
yo amo los mundos sutiles,

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